Carver POV

I didn't have an appointment.

I'd just wanted to get the detectives out of my office.

Investigators, I reminded myself.

And truthfully, I really only wanted three of them out of my office. I would've let Alexandra stay as long as she liked.

I'd always found her attractive, but seeing her today had really brought that consideration home.

I sat back in my chair and thought about her for a minute longer.

Now she would be an excellent DA's wife.

She was smart and resourceful. She knew how to play the political game when it was necessary, and she was very diplomatic. She had to be after working with that man for so many years. I had no idea how many of his messes she'd had to clean up, and the fact that I didn't know meant she was quite adept at presenting a polished picture.

Not to mention the fact that she cleaned up well. She could stand to shop at higher-end stores, but that fault could be easily remedied.

Am I really sitting here considering courting Alexandra Eames?

Yes. I've always gone after whatever I wanted. What good did it do to sit back and wait? None whatsoever.

The fact of the matter was that having a wife was a valuable asset to a politician as long as the wife was laudable, and I believed her to be the best candidate I'd come across in quite some time.

Of course, I hadn't thought to check to see if she was already married. It had been several years since I saw her last.

But if she was married, then why was she still working with Goren? What kind of husband would let his wife go into business with a ticking time bomb?

That settled it. Clearly she was still available. And she was only going to be in town for a short while. I couldn't waste time.

I picked up the phone and called the hotel. Of course, I'd made the reservations myself, so the front desk was unfamiliar with her name specifically and I didn't know which of the two rooms she had chosen, so I had to describe her as well as the others in hopes that the concierge could catch her on the way in.

I checked my watch. As I mentioned, timing is everything.

And I think that today my timing was perfect.

Carolyn POV

I didn't like Carver back when I worked for the department and after spending half an hour with him, I remembered exactly why. He was a conceited son of a bitch who thought he was better than everyone else. Especially better than lowly private investigators.

The whole time we'd spoken with him, his attention had been focused on Alex. If I didn't know better, I would've thought that they used to be lovers.

Rather, that's what I gathered from watching him. Alex hadn't put out any vibe at all, which led me to believe that she was masking her distaste.

I had to give Bobby credit for holding his tongue and ignoring the attorney's blatant interest in Alex. Although I also had no doubt that the issue was far from over. It would come to a head at some point. I just hoped I was around to see it.

We left the Lake Shore Drive office and went back to our hotel. It wasn't quite four o'clock yet and the consensus was that we would put in a few hours on the gritty streets of Cabrini Green.

But clearly we needed to change clothes first. It was unlikely that anyone would believe that we belonged there, but at the very least, we didn't want to look like cops.

"Meet you guys back here in twenty," Mike said to Bobby and Alex as we crossed the lobby.

Our room was on the second floor and theirs was on the fourth. The place must be nearly filled to capacity if Carver had been unable to get two rooms on the same floor, but that was fine.

"Um, excuse me!"

The four of us stopped and turned around as the hotel concierge came running toward us.

"Are you…Alexandra?"

"Yes I am," Alex replied. The man held out a piece of paper to her.

"I'm sorry. There was a man who called to leave a message for Alexandra Eames, but since you're not the registered guest, he gave me a description and he mentioned that you were investigators from New York…" The concierge trailed off his rambling explanation and Alex took the note from his hand.

"Thank you."

"It's got to be Carver," she told us as we continued toward the elevators. She unfolded the paper and let out a groan. "Oh you have got to be kidding me."

"What is it?" Bobby asked her.

"He's inviting me to dinner," she replied.

"All of us or just you?"

"Just me."

"Carver's asking you on a date?" Mike asked with amusement.

"He must have called over here right after we left," I mused as we got on the elevator.

He hadn't asked while we were there because he didn't want to do it in front of the rest of us. He honestly thought he had a shot with her.

Oh yeah. That issue was going to come to a head even sooner than I'd expected.

"So what, he just thinks you're going to drop everything to have dinner with him?" Bobby asked.

I was sure he was going for casual, but he didn't pull it off. What was he afraid of? That she would actually go?

Oh Bobby…you and Mike are two peas in a pod with your insecurities.

"Of course he'd think that," Alex said in annoyance. "Because he's a pompous jackass."

She balled up the message and quietly fumed as the elevator stopped on the second floor.

"Twenty minutes," Mike reminded them.

"Got it," Alex said quickly as the doors closed.

"Now see, this is when I wish our rooms were on the same floor," Mike remarked as we went to our room. "I'd love to hear this conversation."

"You mean with Alex and Carver, or Alex and Bobby?"

"Either. Both."

"Bobby's not mad. She didn't do anything to encourage him."

"No, I know. But in case you hadn't noticed, he's got some jealousy issues."

"Huh," I replied thoughtfully as I waited for him to unlock the door. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Oh, you're being sarcastic now?"

We were in the room by this point and he started advancing on me as I backed up.

"I'm just wondering how you'd think I was familiar with jealousy issues. I mean, it's not like you've ever had any trouble."

"No. Never."

"That's right. You're nothing like him. You don't get upset when someone looks at me too long, or…"

"Asks you out on a date?"

"Right."

"Let me hear someone ask you out," he remarked as he pulled off his coat and his suit jacket. Then he started loosening his tie in a deliberate way that left no doubt as to his intentions.

"We only have twenty minutes," I reminded him.

"I know."

"It's going to take me some time to look like I blend in with the locals in the projects."

"You'll never pull it off. You're too damn gorgeous," he growled as he stepped out of his pants and pushed me against the wall.

"See," I managed to say as he pulled at my sweater. "You're jealous just thinking about someone asking me out."

"Damn straight."

Mike was the only man who'd ever been able to get my brain to shut down.

Seriously.

Every other lover I'd had in the past, even the fairly adequate ones, still couldn't keep me from thinking about a case during sex.

What can I say? My brain doesn't shut off.

Or I didn't think it did.

With Mike, it does.

It never once occurred to me to look at the clock, or ponder our first move to find Derek, or what Alex and Bobby were going to do about Carver.

Instead, I just flipped the switch for ten glorious minutes.

"See, I kept my word," Mike whispered when we finally reached our goal. "You've still got ten minutes. And I helped you get a head start on looking rumpled."

Bobby POV

I was caught completely off-guard by the dinner invitation.

Clearly, so was Alex. She stood quietly seething as the elevator took us up to the fourth floor.

I held out my hand and she handed me the crumpled paper. I smoothed it out and read the message.

The header read Alexandra Eames.

Then below it said,

I'd like to take you to dinner, take some time to catch up. I promise not to keep you too long. Meet me at Sixteen in the Trump Tower at nine o'clock.

The message didn't even provide for a means in which she could decline.

The man had some serious nerve.

Damn, I thought he would have at least waited until we found his brother before he started hitting on her. I'd hoped that during that time I could manage to subtly make known my place in her life.

Or maybe not so subtly.

Hmm…what I'd really like to do is punch him in the face and leave the wedding band imprinted across his nose.

But that would be very unprofessional.

And I was trying very hard to remain professional.

This was our first case in the private sector. It wouldn't suit our image if we bombed it because I lost my cool with a client.

But I really hadn't considered for a second that Carver would hit on her quite so hard. And I hadn't been prepared for that sick feeling that had taken up residence in the pit of my stomach.

I don't know why it did, either. It wasn't like I was worried that she would leave me for him.

Maybe it was the residue from my dream.

Or maybe it was my old insecurities coming back to haunt me. I'm not sure.

But whatever the reason, I didn't like it.

And yet I didn't want to come off as overly jealous. I didn't want Alex to think that I couldn't handle seeing her receive attention from an unsolicited suitor.

I had to be more mature than that. I had to respect her more than that.

So I needed to let her take the lead.

Of course, that didn't stop me from sending her a flood of psychic signals.

"We'll both go," she said suddenly after we'd gotten off the elevator.

"To dinner?"

That wasn't exactly the message I'd been sending, but it would work.

"Yeah. We're a package deal. Carver may not know that yet but he will. Our relationship with him is strictly business, nothing more. We'll go to dinner and bring him up to speed on whatever progress we make this evening."

"Somehow I doubt he intends for dinner at the Trump Tower to be a working dinner," I remarked as we entered our room.

But I liked her proposal. And if he still insisted on hitting on her, then maybe I would get the chance to imprint his nose with my ring.

"I doubt it, too, but he'll have to get used to a little disappointment."

I watched her for a moment as she went through her duffle bag.

"Alex, you know you can go. He's a former colleague. I trust you. If you want to have dinner with him, it's okay."

She stopped her rummaging and looked up at me but her expression was inscrutable.

That was the right thing to say, wasn't it?

"How long did you practice saying those words in your head before you actually got them to come out?" she asked with a sarcastic tone. "Because they still didn't sound quite right. Those weren't Bobby-words."

"Maybe I should've practiced another few minutes," I admitted. "I'm serious though. I won't be mad."

She put her hands on her hips and shook her head at me.

"You should be mad," she insisted. "Although I'm probably mad enough for both of us. He treats you like you have some kind of communicable disease and then he hits on your wife. That doesn't piss you off?"

"He must not know you're my wife. It's not like we said anything."

She crossed the room and stood in front of me. She reached one hand up and ran it along my cheek.

"Don't stand up for him," she said in a soft yet firm voice. "He's an arrogant prick who probably pulled my credit report before asking me to dinner. We are going or we are not going. Any questions?"

"Just one," I asked as I pulled her closer to me. She raised an eyebrow at me, and I continued, "Did you pack that black leather mini-skirt you used to wear for Vice?"

"You think I should wear that to Cabrini Green?"

"No…I think you should wear it for the next twenty minutes."

TBC...